


The Ties of Sol-Grata

by Draycarla



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Cheating, Comfort/Angst, Drugged Sex, Dubious Consent, Fuck or No Alliance, M/M, On the basis Shiro's been coerced into this, Oral Sex, Politics, Post-Canon, Referenced Curtis/Shiro, Rough Sex, Shiro Ship Week 2019, Shiro clones, Shirocest, latter to be safe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-23
Updated: 2019-07-23
Packaged: 2020-07-11 17:27:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19931779
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Draycarla/pseuds/Draycarla
Summary: “My system has not seen inter-species conflict for many rotations, Admiral Shirogane, and we had very little Galran presence this side of the universe.” The alien nodded at the servant who placed down a plate that contained what Shiro presumed was the local delicacies in front of them, and then he received his own and a top-up to his glass.“So please, enlighten me, what good would it do to join this 'Coalition'? I appreciate the work that Voltron has done in the past, but are we not now entering an age of peace? The Lions, I understand, are now gone, and the only considerable weapon of note left belongs to Earth. Your vessel, I believe?” They fixed him with a strong gaze as the blade of the knife cut through what was likely meat.-To try and bring the Yalkegian's to the side of the Coalition, Shiro agrees to send the Atlas away and partake in what they ask of him to try and make sure this advanced race can be brought to their side, lest a possible race like the Galra rise up in the period of instability. On a planet of aliens cloned from each other, Shiro will find some one he wasn't expecting: someone who is their nomination.Someone he has to sleep with.





	The Ties of Sol-Grata

**Author's Note:**

> It's late, I apologise! Day 6 of Shiro ship week, which was Royalty...was again a basis and I went with it. 
> 
> Gonna say now: the Kuron in this fic isn't the same Kuron as s3-s6. It's just a name and better then renaming him something else. I like to think he's generally in a state of shock - they both kinda are - for this fic.
> 
> If i could be assed, I would continue this way past where it ends, but I want to write other things again (mymm) and miss that. It's alright work for me, I mean it's long.
> 
> I hope you guys will enjoy, and please lemme know!

“My system has not seen inter-species conflict for many rotations, Admiral Shirogane, and we had very little Galran presence this side of the universe.” The alien nodded at the servant who placed down a plate that contained what Shiro presumed was the local delicacies in front of them, and then he received his own and a top-up to his glass.

“So please, enlighten me, what good would it do to join this 'Coalition'? I appreciate the work that Voltron has done in the past, but are we not now entering an age of peace? The Lions, I understand, are now gone, and the only considerable weapon of note left belongs to Earth. Your vessel, I believe?” They fixed him with a strong gaze as the blade of the knife cut through what was likely meat.

“That is correct. The IGF Atlas still has the capacity to transform, however I can assure you that as the captain of the vessel, it is I and I alone who has the means to transform it.” Shiro licked his lips. This alien – a Yalkeg as Hunk had referred to them as – was one of the hardest rulers he had the pleasure of dealing with. They thoroughly did their research, and in some cases he felt on the back-foot. However, the Coalition needed them as an ally. Their technology, resources, connections, and sheer population size through cloning was impressive; but in a state of peace, yet slight unease as everyone found their feet, this race of aliens could use it as an opportunity. Especially since as they'd said, there had been little Galran presence that had let them flourish.

“I see. So for example's sake, say I speak to my council and we reject the proposals of the Coalition, what then?”

“Then on my word we would go, yet leave the invitation extended if you ever came to reconsider.” The alien nodded to Shiro's response, their long antennae bobbing as they did.

“The Earthling, the diplomat that came here before, was a polite one. You,” they pointed a long elegant finger at Shiro, “I sense the same energy from. However, my race would have concerns over the power of the IGF Atlas and it's capabilities.”

“Do you not hold the same concerns for Altean Alchemy or Galran technologies?”

“Oh I do, however the Atlas is as close to Voltron as it could be. To us, we consider that a super-weapon, and would not wish to be on the receiving end of such a thing. At the same time, I do not wish to be cowed into making a decision _because_ of the weapon. It would have me seen as weak.”

“With all due respect, threatening you with the Atlas and her capabilities was not the intention. If there is anything I can do to make you more comfortable, please let me know. I can have her return for me, if you please?” Shiro offered. The Yalkeg sat up straighter with a small frown on their face.

“You would leave yourself vulnerable?”

“Is it truly vulnerable if we both seek peace?” Shiro raised an eyebrow as he took a sip of his drink.

The words hung heavy in the air as they ate in silence. Shiro had noted the Overseer glance over his body a few times, strange two-toned pupils tracing his frame. The way their face crumpled in concentration reminded Shiro of when someone was trying to recognise you from a distance. He was certain he'd never met this alien before.

“I am the sixty-third Overseer of Sol-Grata, Admiral Shirogane, and we have yet to face problems that we haven't been able to deal with _yet_. Yet, however, is the key word. You may send away your ship if you wish, but we would ask that if you are so intent on proving yourself and this Coalition to us, that you engage in our customs and ways.” They rested their elbows on the table, watching Shiro intently.

“If it would help you be able to trust us, then I am happy to comply with your ways if it can foster a better relationship.” Shiro replied coolly, hoping that the ruler of the Yalkeg could hear his willingness in his voice.

“Then, please make the preparations you need to, and I will have a room made up for your stay. I will discuss with my council as to what we will require of you.”

“Thank you for this honour,” Shiro rose with the Overseer, offering him a deep bow of respect.

-

The servants of the palace had come to him at sunrise. All three of them looked identical bar one who wore a more elaborate silk tunic. They gave him a traditional Yalkegian tunic, the hem covering his body just above the knees and embroidered with complex patterns of black and gold threads. The long belt looped through a ring that he had to double-tie, but at least he felt presentable if not slightly casual compared to the Garrison-issue uniform he took pride in wearing. Shiro would do as custom dictated however, and as he was walked towards the gardens by a group of identical guards, he found the Overseer awaiting him wearing a tunic of similar design, just considerably more intricate. Their arms were adorned with jewels and metal bands and rings, and a delicate crown sat atop their head.

“I trust you slept well?”

“Yes, Overseer. The room prepared was more than adequate and more than necessary. I must thank you for these garments, they do fit rather snugly.” Shiro motioned to himself and the Overseer smiled. With a wave of their hand, the guards dispersed.

“Walk with me through the gardens, we have things to discuss.”

“Then I shall follow your lead.” Shiro ambled along after the Overseer as they pointed out plants and features, sharing their history and significances of certain garden features. Shiro listened politely, wondering for a brief second whether Hunk should have been here with him as well. This he would likely enjoy.

“Please, sit with me.”

“Of course, Overseer.” They settled under a tree overlooking a small pond, strange creatures swimming over the surface.

“You may have noticed that many of my kind look similar.”

“I have been informed that the Yalkegians using cloning technologies.”

“I applaud your research. Your thoughts?”

“Thank you,” Shiro offered a smile as he watched the Overseer gently toss some food to the creatures that darted across the surface and snapped at the food greedily, “my body is that of a clone.”

“Earthlings have cloning technology?”

“Not my kind,” Shiro swallowed, needing to pick his words _very_ carefully, “the Galra made clones without my consent, copied over memories.”

“That is...quite terrible. All clones are consensually made here. We believe this is how one can continue to survive, to attain immortality. There is no need to sire children, so population and resources can be controlled for a better quality of life.”

“I can believe that.” Shiro answered quietly, listening to the odd _krepit_ noise the creatures made at each other.

“Your scars suggest a life of fighting. The Galra?”

“I was their arena Champion for a year.”

“I see. We were aware of the death matches,” they took a more comfortable position, “slavery and servitude was abolished over five hundred rotations ago. It is something only an uncouth race would partake in, especially using them as entertainment. We have thankfully surpassed such dated thinking.”

“That is certainly something I can agree with you on, Overseer. It is something the Coalition is also staunchly against.”

“Mmm, I noticed,” they glanced up through the leaves, blinking slowly, “we do have an arena, of sorts here. It is not used as you may expect it.”

“Is it more for show?” Shiro knew he was tense, and had to keep himself from just leaving there and then.

“Yes. We do not endorse death matches. Our arena uses nominated warriors that settle disputes and provide festival entertainment. They have lives outside of the arena.”

“That seems awfully kind.” Shiro's lips twitched, ignoring the broiling bitterness in his gut.

“Usually outsiders would be made to prove themselves to our nominated warrior, especially those like you who can fight,” the Overseer turned to scrutinise him carefully, “however from your past, I do not feel it wise for our warriors or yourself to undergo this.”

“I...”

“You do not need to speak, Admiral Shirogane, for I understand.” The Overseer rose from the ground and motioned Shiro to follow, tracing their fingers through soft leaves.

“As a race that looks to foster bonds after being so isolated for rotations, the council and I have decided to allow you to participate in one of our most intimate practices; we would like you to physically bond with our nomination.” They stopped at a set of double doors and Shiro was starting to wonder whether he should have just not taken this mission.

“Are you asking me to have sex with them?”

“If that is what you humans call it, then yes. Does this not please you? You did agree to comply.”

“I did. I am just a little shocked, I suppose.”

“The merging of bodies and heat symbolises a union. We would be creating a union with you via our proxy. The act is merely symbolic.”

“I understand, and...I will comply. May I have some time?”

“Of course. We are here to prepare you. At solset you will meet our nomination, as we must inform them.”

“May I have an idea as to who it is?” Shiro had to admit the Yalkegians weren't really appealing to sleep with, especially with the spiny plated skin he'd spied under some of the tunics. The Overseer merely smiled at him before the doors opened.

“Wait and see, Admiral.”

  
-

It couldn't be described as like staring at his reflection, because what moved towards him was more like a ghost, or when you fondly remembered old photographs, as opposed to a mirror image. Shiro swallowed as he took stock of the man that crossed the polished floors, flanked by the Overseer and likely the council. Both arms were intact, the hair wasn't white, and over the lean toned frame, a handful of scars marred his skin. The hair was longer, braided together intricately with beads and ribbon weaved in, or at least it looked so from what he could see hanging off his shoulder. The robe he wore was Japanese-looking in design, and Shiro couldn't help recalling one with a similar pattern his mother sent him for his twentieth birthday.

_Like the clone, this clone also likely retained the same memories._

“This is our nomination – someone we thought may be quite familiar to you. Yalkegian...natural secretions are harmful to humans from what we have gauged.” The Overseer nodded at the clone, who was staring over Shiro carefully. It, he, was likely having the same thoughts about seeing a doppelgänger, but that training they both shared and had down to an art-form had kicked in; making a scene now would do no one any good.

“We will leave you with Kuron. I am sure you both have things to discuss before the act must be completed.” They gently pushed 'Kuron' towards Shiro and took their leave.

Shiro watched Kuron consider him before motioning to the plush floating chairs near the window. He followed his lead and settled opposite, watching him rest his right leg over the left; just like him. Shiro wasn't sizing him up, but it was bizarre. He didn't feel like he was looking at a twin, because he didn't know what it felt like to have one, but he also didn't feel like a stranger either. Absently he touched his own jaw, never realising how angular his face was.

“Are you a clone of me?” Kuron cut straight to the point.

“I took you to be another clone of me.”

“Another?” Kuron narrowed his eyes, “what did the Galra do? The last thing I remember is killing Myzax and being taken down to some labs.”

“It's complicated. This whole situation is... _fuck_.” Shiro ran a hand through his hair, motioning to his arm, “the original body was destroyed.”

“But...am I not the original _-_ ”

“No. The original Shiro's body – my body – was destroyed as I said. This,” he motioned to himself, “is a clone body. A body created from everything the witch took.”

“The witch?”

“That Galra in a hood and cloak.”

“Oh. _Her._ ”

“She's dead.” At this Kuron whipped his head up at Shiro, mouth opening and closing, before he slumped down in the seat, scrubbing a hand over his face.

“What you see before you is an amalgamation of the original and a clone. Our memories, soul...everything combined. I know of you, that more was made, I've _seen_ you in the recesses of my memories. How old are you, Kuron?”

“I-I'm twenty-five.”

“I'm thirty.” Shiro responded, flicking his gaze out the window as he spoke, “you have only been here for a year?”

“I suppose, yeah.”

“Then after you woke up, what do you remember?”

“I woke up to the Great Overseer. My head it was...a mess, like something was missing,” Kuron paused and Shiro knew from the look he got, Kuron was trying to process this, “they told me my name was Kuron, it was on the side of the tank I was in. Sometimes I remember another name – Shiro – but I think it must have been a nickname?”

“It is. Your real name is reserved for those special to you.”

“But is it my real name? If you...claim...to be the original, then what's happened to me? Why do you look older? Why are you covered in so many scars and _what happened to the arm_?” Kuron's voice rose, expectantly, as his brows knit together. Shiro sighed, feeling a headache brew. He forgot how standoffish he was when he was younger.

“As said I'm an amalgamation. The memories the clone had – he saw another being experimented on. We... _I_ thought it was a dream, but it wasn't. Your presence confirms that. The Galra...they removed the arm, replaced it with a prosthetic that I used to kill with in the arena,” he never realised how easy it was for this all to spill from his lips as he stared at Kuron, even if he was having to reiterate himself, “it's where the scars came from. Then there was the other experiments. They took more samples, more and more from me. After that I was saved by Ulaz. Do you recognise the name?”

“No.”

“A shame. I liked him – you would have too. He's dead; has been for years.” Shiro sniffed as he brushed his eyes. “At twenty-five I returned to Earth. Have you heard of Voltron?”

“Yeah, but if you returned to Earth...what about Matt and Sam? How was Keith?”

“I...both the original and the clone, was the Black Paladin at one point. Keith, Matt and Sam are fine. All alive.” Shiro offered Kuron a smile as he sighed heavily, “it's a weight off your shoulders, right?”

“Yeah,” Kuron nodded slowly, “I've been worried about them so much. Even if life here's good, I miss them.” He chewed his lip, glancing up at Shiro, “what about Adam?”

Shiro sucked in a sharp breath. Kuron frowned, but it quickly shifted to concern.

“What happened?”

“You never met Commander Sendak, did you?”

“No, but the name rings a bell.”

“Remember Sanda?”

“Yeah, the Admiral...did she get demoted?”

“Dead. Along with Sendak, and Adam,” Shiro answered solemnly, “he died protecting Earth from the Galra.” Kuron swore, staring out the window.

“So...how did the original die?”

“In a fight with Zarkon. The Black Lion saved my consciousness, and I remained within a strange space within it. Then I met the clone, sent by the witch. She used him as a sleeper agent. This body harmed Keith. She controlled him. So this body, it's cloned, but this mind is primarily that of the original, if you want to call it that. Honestly?” Shiro pushed himself from the chair and moved towards Kuron, extending out a hand, “I don't think it matters any more who is what. All I can really think of is that the original Shiro died the day he killed Myzax. We're not the same as him. Not you, not I.”

“I don't feel bad being a clone,” Kuron responded quietly as he looked at the hand, “but it hurts.”

“In what way?”

“That I've clung to being an individual – natural. I'm not.”

“I'm sorry.”

“For what? Giving me the truth?” Kuron raised his head, staring up at Shiro, “because at least someone told me, and at least it was effectively myself.” Kuron took Shiro's forearm and let him hoist him up.

-

“I'm the Great Overseer's favoured warrior in the arena.” Kuron unsheathed the sword, admiring the blade as he offered it to Shiro. “Do you think they decided I was a warrior after what you did in the arena?”

“It's possible,” Shiro replied as he ran metal fingers along the blade, “I think the Overseer knows more then they let on.”

“I don't know who found me; whether it was them or someone else. I try not to think about it.”

“Do they treat you well?”

“I don't need to kill anyone, and I have shelter, food, freedoms.” Kuron paused. “I wouldn't know if I can leave.”

“Have you ever asked?”

“No.”

“Would you want to?” Shiro offered the sword back to Kuron.

“I don't know.” Kuron took the blade and sheathed it again, glancing at the space where the mats sat.

“Wanna spar with me?”

“Why?” Shiro half-chuckled at the request.

“For fun, perhaps see who's stronger?”

“Sure. I never trusted myself around the others.”

“What's different?”

“You're like me. You know how to fight. Besides,” Shiro cracked his knuckles, a small grin on his face, “I wanna see if this ends in a draw or not.” He moved towards the mats. Kuron followed, loosening his robes a little.

“Rules?”

“First one to remain pinned for ten seconds,” Kuron answered as he stretched his muscles, eyeing the floating prosthetic carefully, “your arm may give me some trouble.”

“It may do, but if we think similarly, you'll know what I'll do.”

“Theoretically, yeah.” Kuron took a fighting stance that mirrored his own.

Even after Kuron called to start, the two carefully circled each other. They both knew that launching forward first would put them at a disadvantage, and for the first time since his fight with Sendak, Shiro found himself having to really think. That was the signal Kuron needed to move. Shiro snapped back to attention, catching the offending fist within his prosthetic.

“Good!”

“You're distracted, Admiral!” Kuron smirked at him as he dropped low, slipping under the floating arm and moving in to grab the front of Shiro's tunic, the little smirk on his lips offering a glimpse of teeth. Shiro swore as he went to grab the wrist, but Kuron quickly captured that in his spare hand.

“Are you rusty?”

“Was I always this arrogant?” Shiro frowned as Kuron's expression shifted.

“I'm not arrogant, and we're not completely the same, are we?”

“That's true with the latter,” Shiro answered coolly, bringing his prosthetic back to grab Kuron under the arm, “but you're the former for forgetting my other arm.”

Shiro hoisted Kuron up. He let go of Shiro's tunic and arm to gain purchase, and loosened off a growl when Shiro moved fluidly around his body, hooking a leg so he was stuck precariously balanced. In response, Kuron thrashed the hooked leg until it was free and let himself fall to the left. Shiro released him from his grip to watch him roll across the floor and up to a crouching position.

“You move well for being older.”

“I like to keep myself in shape.”

“You're gauging, aren't you?”

“Yeah. So are you.” Kuron grinned as he pulled himself up, before moving back in. Shiro clicked his tongue and swung the prosthetic forward again. Kuron feinted and as he moved in, instead of punching Shiro like he was expecting, Kuron dropped and swept his leg into the side of Shiro's.

Stumbling, Shiro made some distance before he hit the ground on his knees with a groan. As he pushed up, a weight pressed down over his back and arms tugged him up, constricting his chest. Kuron was stronger than he looked, and Shiro wondered how much he could have accomplished in the arena with both arms intact.

“You're distracted.”

“I am.”

“Don't be.” The breath was hot against his ear. Shiro shuddered instinctively, before loosening his own growl. He wasn't going to lose; he had to get his head in the game, and he couldn't fail against a clone of all things.

He tore Kuron's arms from his chest, gripping them tightly as he rose to his feet. Even if he was trying to be dead weight, the prosthetic made it easier to lift him. With a grunt and footwork, he swung Kuron around in front of him, noting the look of surprise as Shiro grabbed the robe's sleeve and open front. With speed, and even Kuron's struggles, he whirled around and threw him over his shoulder. Kuron hit the mat with a hard slam, the man below him cursing in pain as Shiro dropped over his hips. He held Kuron down with the prosthetic and pressed his human hand on the ground for support as he counted. Kuron writhed, bucked, and ground his hips upwards. Grey eyes flashed dangerously up at him, and Shiro growled down, applying more weight.

“I dare you.”

“I'm not losing to you.”

“You've lost-” Shiro hissed when hands grabbed at his hair, yanking his face down so they were just millimetres apart.

“I'm not losing anything more today.”

“What do you-” a hand grabbed Shiro's throat, the flesh fingers pressing hard around his windpipe.

“You don't get to come here and turn my world upside down. You think I can accept what you said? You have...any idea what it's like? Understanding how much time you've lost?!”

“Y-Yes!” Shiro's answer was cracked as he pulled Kuron's hand away, feeling burning red lines left in their wake. They scrabbled against each other. Kuron flipped Shiro over onto his back, driving a fist into his face, while Shiro wrestled with the urge to fight or pity him.

“Fight _back!_ ” Kuron snapped, small tears forming in his eyes. Shiro snapped his teeth and struck him in the side of the face with the prosthetic. Kuron yelped out, sitting up and holding his cheek.

“I didn't mean to hit you so hard.”

“Don't lie, Admiral, you meant it.”

“I'm not _violent_.”

“Saying that I am?”

“No!”

“Your tone when you talk about the body and clones is like they- we're beneath you!” Kuron snarled, rubbing the blood from his mouth away, “if I am or not it doesn't matter, but we didn't _ask_ for this! We didn't _ask_ to be born!”

“I know! It's just a reminder – you're a reminder – of what I couldn't stop from happening! You have no idea, none, of what it's been like!”

“But I do, from _you_!” Kuron's voice cracked as he moved away from Shiro, spitting blood to the wayside. “You're only here to form an alliance. You feign that you care, but we share a mind and behaviours, Shiro, and you just want this to be over with. Don't deny what is part of you; the violence, the negative traits, it's part of both of us.”

“Don't you think I know that?” Shiro pushed himself up, clutching his face in his hands.

“I'm sorry.” Shiro finally broke the silence.

“For what?”

“Everything. Maybe I should go, just call this off.”

“You can't, and we both know that. You can't run, and you'd hate yourself more for doing it.” Kuron sighed, offering a hand to Shiro. Shiro took the hand and paused. He tugged him down, drawing him into a tight embrace.

“I'm scared of myself and everything I did. It's like a living reminder of everything I hate about myself.”

“Is it because you see yourself for what you can do?”

“Yeah.”

“Unlike the Shiro...Kuron...whoever you merged with, I've had a different set of circumstances. You said he was a sleeper agent?”

“The witch controlled him.”

“And she's dead?”

“Yeah.” Shiro sniffed.

“So, I can't be a sleeper agent either.”

“No, but the fact this body caused harm.”

“He probably never wanted to if he was so convinced he was you; the original.”

“That's what hurts.”

“I guessed. At least,” Kuron licked his lips as he toyed with Shiro's hair, “he wasn't in control. So you and he would never willingly harm anyone if you could help it.” Shiro nodded his head in response, clutching the robes tighter in his hands. The catharsis of talking this through with a version of himself that could answer back helped; he wished he could've truly spoken to the clone, especially after accessing so many memories and all the feelings. He'd truly wanted to do good.

-

It was hard to process what Shiro had told him. He'd known for a while something was off when he didn't wake up around the Galra. Meeting Shiro had put the final nail in the coffin he didn't want to board up. He watched the other man stroke the grass with his remaining hand, brow creased as if it was the first time he had touched grass in his life. They had different lives even if they came from the same starting point, and it was much like the nature versus nurture argument he recalled getting into with Adam about Keith's behaviour. In this sense, it seemed applicable to the situation. His life here was relaxed, and as Shiro had revealed through their talks, he hadn't had to deal with the struggles and loss of war. What he hated was all the time stolen from him, but even then, arguably his birth was whenever he was created in a tank; a test tube creature. There was comfort in this one being here, and even if it was only for a short period of time, it was nice to meet his doppelgänger.

Kuron spied the Great Overseer from the corner of his eye. They were moving towards the main hall with their guards. Their eyes locked for a few seconds; the Great Overseer glancing between the two, before looking away. He really couldn't tell what their intentions were, but for now he would wait and see. Patience yields focus; he'd work it out soon enough.

-

Shiro wasn't entirely certain he could explain to Curtis about this, and that was even if he did, how he'd react. Was this cheating on him even if it was effectively himself? Was this just masturbation? Shiro didn't know, and he didn't want to know what Kuron thought about it. Perhaps the fact he was considering, well, _trying to_ , consider him as his own person independent of himself made him feel more like a separate person, and therefore the guilt pooled in his gut.

“For this union to be successful, you must satisfy our nomination, and he the same. The act will be conducted in one of the side-quarters. An officiator will be outside the room until the act is over.” The Overseer fixed their gaze on Shiro, likely awaiting a rebuttal. He remained silent, reminding himself it was better to accept then have a race that could become the next Galra if left unchecked. Additionally, this utopia-esque place had him uneasy, perhaps because nothing in life was this perfect. It may be him being cynical, but it didn't hurt to have reservations.

“I accept that.”

“Excellent. I must ask, Admiral Shirogane, how you have felt spending the last few hours with dear Kuron? It must be strange, no?”

“It has been,” Shiro cast his gaze at Kuron, who knelt beside him, “an interesting and informative few hours.”

“This pleases me. Kuron, what say you?”

“Much like the Admiral, I have found it the same, Great Overseer.”

“As expected from two cut from the same cloth,” the Overseer's lips curled upwards and their eyes sparkled, a little too devilishly for Shiro's liking.

“Then please, let us toast to the union that shall come to pass.” The Overseer raised their glass, and as they, the council and Kuron drank back the sickly sweet liquid, Shiro pushed back the alarm bells that blared in his head. He was likely just nervous. Yeah, that was it. He'd never had to do this before, so the nerves and anxieties made sense. He'd ask Curtis to fuck him after he'd scrubbed himself clean and was rid of this place, but part of him wanted to take Kuron with him. Just to let him live. He drained the glass of its contents and sat up straighter, watching the Overseer study them both. He felt like he'd seen that type of look before, but couldn't place a face to it.

-

He was warm. Really warm. The doors were open to a veranda; silken translucent curtains billowed in the wind, but their 'privacy' was a single gilded screen. Incense clung to his nostrils and in the back of his throat, but Shiro was too distracted from the scents and even the Yalkegian outside. He leaned back, releasing a sharp gasp, as he stared at the ceiling. Kuron chuckled softly as he pressed his hot lips against Shiro's burning skin; every nip, kiss and suck doing nothing but add fuel to the burning need that coursed through his body. He didn't need to direct Kuron; there was no need to. Teeth grazed his jaw and down his neck, fingers brushing and curling tightly into his hair, pulling his head back. Teeth pressed over his jugular and the action had Shiro grabbing Kuron's sides.

“ _F-Fuck_.”

“Good?”

“Y-Yes.” He felt the teeth catch against his collar bone, chest, nipple, and his grip tightened around Kuron's waist, the fabric cool to touch.

A hand slowly massaged his chest, squeezing the skin together languidly while Kuron teased his nipple with his teeth and tongue. Shiro flopped backwards into the thin sheets, pulling Kuron down with him, the second hand dragging itself from his hair and over his chest.

“They really made you hurt, huh?” Kuron traced a nasty scar across his chest with both hands before kneading his pecs slowly.

“Mm, there, pinch-” Shiro arched his back as Kuron pinched his nipples, tugging them gently between his fingers.

“So sensitive,” Kuron muttered as he leaned down, running his tongue the length of Shiro's torso, “and your skin is so hot.”

“S-So's yours.” Shiro bucked his hips when teeth pressed against muscle just under his rib cage. His voice cracked as the room swam above him, Kuron's teeth catching the skin down to his waist, his hips, and over the bone. It should hurt, but everything felt good. _Kuron was good_.

Shiro dragged his metal and flesh fingers over Kuron's shoulders, watching him press kisses and lick at his flesh around his abdomen. He was teasing, not going lower just to wind Shiro up further. With one hand, Kuron pushed the robes from his waist to the sheets.

“It's hot. Why's it so hot?”

“Dunno...” Shiro sat up, head lolling down as he blinked slowly. Everything felt heavy and warm, but as he stared down at his leaking erection, then Kuron's, he couldn't help but lick his lips. He was guilty of _wanting_ to effectively fuck a version of himself, and as he raised his head, he was suspecting Kuron was having the same realisation considering where his eyes lingered.

Shiro pounced, pushing him down into the sheets and grabbing both his hands. He crushed their lips together, pressing his body against the one that burned just as hot as his. Their teeth knocked against each other as they both hungrily tried to dominate the kiss. With a roll of his hips, Shiro made Kuron gasp out and took the opportunity. The velvety groan made the lust coil and bubble as he rutted against Kuron, smearing their precome together. His mouth tasted as sweet as Shiro's, and he greedily kissed him. This was different to kissing Adam or Curtis, and with the nails that stung against the exposed skin, Shiro couldn't think of anything better. It was selfish perhaps, but he couldn't get enough of the contact that knew him so intimately. If only he had rope, something to bind these wandering hands. Was there any point in asking if he knew the answer?

Kuron flipped him over, tearing their mouths apart. His lips were swollen and wet, but he came back for more.

“Wanna see you come undone,” he murmured into Shiro's mouth, running his tongue over his bottom lip before biting. Shiro groaned, feeling teeth press just a bit too hard.

“Same.”

“Is it wrong?”

“Does it matter?” They stared into each others eyes, Kuron studying him through those thick lashes. Maybe he'd understand finally why he looked so attractive, apparently, when he went down on previous partners.

“Get back in the sheets, Kuron.” Shiro ordered, pushing him up firmly by the chest. Kuron complied and laid himself down. Shiro loosened a honeyed hum from his throat as he took the darker thighs. Kuron's skin hadn't paled as much as his had, and he'd forgotten how he used to look. Shiro hoisted them over his shoulders and dragged Kuron close, rubbing small circles into his hip bones.

“You gonna fuck me with that?”

“Soon enough.”

“Expect me to just lay down and take it?”

“Course not. We gotta please each other, yeah?”

“Mmm,” Kuron's hair flared out to the side, beads the only thing that remained of the pretty braid he'd had earlier.

“For now,” Shiro took Kuron's leaking cock in his hand and gave it a few sharp pumps, “this is mine to please.”

“Was wondering when you'd get off your ass,” Kuron smirked, drawing his legs together around the back of Shiro's neck, “so get to it, Admiral Shirogane.”

“I plan to.” Shiro returned the expression, giving Kuron's ass a hard spank that earned a wonderfully sharp yelp and made his red face redder.

-

“The Yalkegians and Peoples of Sol-Grata have met your representative from the Coalition, and from what information he has kindly provided, myself and my council would like to accept the invitation extended to us.” The Overseer smiled at the Altean that accepted the transmission.

“That's excellent news! Good ol' Shiro! Where is he, anyway?” The Altean looked pointedly around.

“Ahh, he is currently undergoing one of our ancient practices with our nomination. However,” the Overseer's smile broadened, “he has expressed an interest to stay with us for a while to help with the transition period and other such things as an act of goodwill. He has asked me to relay orders to you to inform the Atlas to carry on with their duties, and he will be in touch in due course.”

“Hunk was right about you, and if Shiro can trust you, we know you'll be a great match for the Coalition. You know,” the Altean leaned in close to the screen, “I feel you look familiar. Ah! Overseer Jia'sora! You remind me of them!”

“Ah yes, they were an ancestor of mine! Not a pleasant one, sadly, but our technologies have advanced enough that such traits were eliminated. What, good sir, is your name?”

“Me? Call me Coran. Yourself?”

“Overseer Necas'oli. It is a name I chose.” They sincerely hoped the transmission could end soon, it seemed the Admiral and Kuron were quite a feisty pair from what the screen showed them.

“It's good to see your species stayed safe during the last ten thousand deca-phoebs. How did you manage?”

“We, somehow, were able to negotiate with the Galra. One came to us, and in an exchange for some of our technology, resources, and peoples, we were lucky to be spared. It was not a good choice in hindsight, but one that kept us alive.”

“Other races of the Coalition have been in similar situations, but it's good you have remained safe.”

“As it is good that more Alteans live. Ah, I must apologise, it seems I have some business to attend to. I will be in contact in due course! Please, have a good day, Coran of New Altea.”

“Thank you. Speak again!” The transmission cut and the Overseer released a long sigh. Oh, how he hated to deal with the other races: Alteans, Galrans, Humans – such arrogant species.

“Have the notes on Project Kuron been translated yet?”

“Almost, Great Overseer, what would you have us do?”

“I have the last one now in my possession, and both are useable for the new plans. I just need to cross-reference Haggar's notes and see what else can be recycled and used.”

“Are we still to erase the other ones memories of the tests?”

“It would be best,” the Overseer watched Kuron pull Shiro off his cock and crush their lips together. Humans were so susceptible to drugs, and particularly their secretions. It was a pain when they would roughly fuck themselves until they bled. At least they had two to play with now, and by the looks of it, they'd fuck each other senseless first.

“Come, Advisor Vil'casa, and look how beautiful it is.” They watched Vil'casa come and together they stared at the scene in front of them.

“Though they have their own individuality, they are similar enough I could watch this over and over. Make sure a recording is kept for blackmail.”

“Of course, Great Overseer.”

-

The heat in the room only rose as Shiro gripped Kuron's thigh as he fucked him against the wall. Kuron's escalating moans only spurred him on, along with watching how the muscles moved under the skin.

“ _Fuck_.”

“H-Harder.” Shiro obliged, raising Kuron's leg higher to gain better access to the tight cavern slick with lube. Their bodies were coated in new and dried sweat, but it didn't matter how they looked or what they tasted like. Shiro nipped at Kuron's neck, earning more noise from the man's throat and the taste of sweet and salty sweat. He didn't know, care, if the incense was blurring his senses, but Kuron made noises that brought him close to just emptying his cock into his ass. He wanted to throat-fuck him, wanted Kuron to just come over his back, his face and chest. _Inside him_. The thoughts sent him into a frenzy as he erratically snapped his hips back and forth, pressing Kuron's head against the wall as their bodies struck each other with increasingly frequency and slaps of sweat-slick skin. Kuron screamed his name and to go harder over and over again, pushing his ass back against Shiro's to take everything in.

“Such a good boy.” Shiro bit down against his shoulder as he came, fingers slipping as he clawed against Kuron's drenched skin.

Shiro carried and dropped Kuron into the sheets, panting as he pushed his hair from his brow. Kuron gazed at him, blinking slowly, as he pushed himself up.

“So...good.”

“Yeah...” Shiro swiped the drool from his jaw, making Kuron laugh as he flopped over Shiro's stomach, lazily rubbing his sensitive cock.

“No, ti-” Shiro bucked his hips and stuttered a moan as Kuron took his cock in his mouth, humming as he cleaned Shiro off. Shiro moaned and let his head roll to the side as he half-watched Kuron's cock bob, the sight of his come staining his thighs a reason to grow hard, apparently. Shiro gently tapped Kuron's legs, and positioned him so he could easily get back to his cock. He ran stripes along it's length and purred when Kuron moved around to face him.

“I can fuck that pretty mouth of yours some more and you can drink it down,” Kuron breathed, “or I can fuck you and then finish in here later.”

“S'long as you're happy, any where's fine.” Shiro relaxed under the firm press against his stomach. Those grey eyes lit up as they trailed across his body. Kuron absently wet his lips as he grabbed Shiro's hips and dragged him upwards so he was left resting on his shoulder blades. This was _new_.

“You can get better access,” Kuron explained as he propped one leg over his shoulder and pushed the other down. He let some spit fall, rubbing it in over Shiro's skin, “it was shown to me.”

“Here?”

“Yeah.”

“I didn't think they could?”

“They can. It's just...overwhelming to humans – like this.” Kuron poured the lube over his fingers, letting the cold liquid drip through them to Shiro's burning skin. He'd question the Overseer afterwards about this, but now his focus was on Kuron's fingers as they pushed into him; curling and twisting.

Shiro whined as Kuron opened him up, teeth grazing over the sensitive skin between his legs as he worked up a quick pace. He kept slipping in more fingers, until four to the knuckle were inside him. His eyes fluttered closed as Kuron finger-fucked his vigorously, feeling the thumb rub along his taint every time it came down. It sent chills along his spine and his voice was only pitching higher and higher. He was so close; he couldn't again so quickly.

“C-Close...stop, sensitive.”

“Mm, I can tell,” Kuron gave his cock a sharp tug, “wouldn't mind seeing it over you.” He felt the fingers pull out, followed by a wet noise. Shiro's body shuddered at the emptiness left, his body screaming for more. He opened his eyes to see Kuron lubing his cock up, offering a warm chuckle as he caught Shiro's gaze.

Carefully, Kuron pushed himself all the way in to Shiro. He let out a low groan, gripping his thighs tightly while Shiro bunched the sheets into his hands, hissing through his teeth as the cock pressed against his prostate. Kuron was right; it felt good like this, and even better when he leaned down over Shiro. He gripped Shiro's shoulders to brace as he started to move his hips, panting and groaning as the pace started to increase. It didn't help they were both tired, but _damn_.

Shiro cried out as every thrust hit its mark. Kuron's nails dug in tightly against his skin; Shiro certain he'd pierced it. It didn't matter, just the erratic thrusts as Kuron neared orgasm. He grabbed Shiro's cock, working it in time with the thrusts that made Shiro whine in pleasure. With a final push, Kuron clenched him tight and growled out the orgasm Shiro felt hot inside him. He was rocked by a second orgasm himself that shot ribbons over his stomach, chest and cheek. They stared at each other, panting heavily, until Kuron carefully set Shiro's body down and flopped over his chest. Shiro wrapped his prosthetic around Kuron's waist while he burrowed his face into the crook of Shiro's neck.

“S'good.”

“Y-Yeah.” Shiro smoothed the dark hair from his forehead, planting a kiss against the his sweaty cheek. His body felt heavy, and as their breath evened out together, Shiro felt he could drift off easier then he should.

“Shiro?”

“Mm?”

“Do you think you can take me with you?”

“We'll see. I can't imagine why you can't leave.”

“I...wanna explore, see space...the others, even if it's not the same, you know?”

“Yeah, Kuron,” Shiro held him closer, “I know.”

**Author's Note:**

> That's a vague ending, isn't it?  
> I want to leave it open for you, honestly. My personal opinion is it goes bleak as fuck. I'll leave that up to you though.
> 
> I wanted a nice Kuron/Shiro cause the clone hate in fandom pisses me off honestly at times. It's a whole sad state of affairs, and no one deserved what happened to them.
> 
> As an additional note, shiro and curtis arent married but dating right now. Hence cheating tag for safety.
> 
> Alas.  
> Next fic is the Hepta/Shiro. It'll be dark.  
> Thank you all for reading!


End file.
